As the more observant amongst you may have deduced from my recent lack of output, I’ve been lacking storytelling inspiration for a little while.
The more cruel / honest amongst you might suggest that the most recent output that preceded said lack of output was also lacking storytelling inspiration but that’s just being mean / honest.
Personally the fact that I’ve already used lack and derivatives thereof approaching half a dozen times already tells it own story (The Lost Chronicles of King Lack and the Amulet of Paucity available in all good imaginary bookshops as well as some rubbish ones).
I’m in a room with mismatched curtains, wooden floors and freshly painted skirting boards. There’s nothing here except for a computer and an office chair on a rug that’s rucked up around the edges. I can’t see what to do…
“Come out! Come out!” screams a voice in my head and then I remember this is real life and not the fucking Crystal Maze and neither Ed Tudor-Pole nor Richard O’Brien can save me however much I beg, plead or wheedle.
Besides, it’s an automatic lock in.
So you know how I always keep moaning about the fact that I spend too much time running and then I’m tired and can’t come up with story ideas and have nothing to write down and than spiral into a red-wine fueled misery-machine?
Well I’ve solved it.
I’ve put together another blog called The Write Runner.
If you happened to stumble your way through the buffed and shining revolving door to stagger forward to the sanitised, public-facing cubicles of the cover-story building, you’d be forgiven for thinking that all was as it seems.
Except, as we all know, things are rarely so simple.
The smiling helpers ensconced in their shining, plexiglass cocoons are merely a front. A façade. Like a Cuban shopfront on a different continent in a different time.
The very kind, generous and excellent Ana (yes, her name was meant to be in a slightly different colour – that’s your cue to go and check out her blog) has been kind, generous and excellent enough to nominate me for the Liebster Award. I believe there will be some kind of glitzy awards ceremony to follow but in the meantime I’m supposed to do three things (well actually 44 if you’re being pedantic but let’s not quibble).
1. Share 11 facts about yourself
2. Answer 11 questions from the blogger who nominated you
3. Nominate up to 11 bloggers and write 11 questions for them to answer
Those of you who lived through the hilarity of me being associated with the word “Sunshine” on two previous award occasions will know that I’m not great on nominating others or posing questions but who knows, by the end of this I may have changed my mind.
Another fractured evening. Broken down into the twenty six minutes that remain.
Fucking addiction. God knows why I need it.
Greetings O Fair And Wondrous Blog-Folk!
It has come to my attention (attentive little soul wot I am) that one or two of us are feeling a little bit jaded and uninspired at present.
This simply will not do.
We need a bit of fun in our lives.
The very excellent, talented and generally wonderful Shannon Noel Brady (please, click on her name. I’ll still be here when you get back. Please come back) has kindly nominated me for the Siblinghood Of The World Blogger Award.
She even more kindly told me that I didn’t have to answer her questions and should spend my tiny amount of current free time on doing some actual writing.
Thanks for the escape clause Shannon but I wouldn’t be able to look the other members of Procrastinators Anonymous in the eyes again.
So here are a bunch of answers that are likely to be far more mediocre than the questions themselves.
It’s hard to believe I still work for a living such is my level of self-promotion…
For the last year or so I’ve been involved in the running of a short story site – Literally Stories. Sunday marked one year since we published our first story, and to celebrate this milestone we launched an anthology to showcase the best of the best from year one.
The site has always been a labour of love and the anthology is no different. All the funds raised from book sales go to The Book Bus – a literacy charity doing amazing work throughout Africa, Asia and South America.
The ebook is available via Amazon in the UK, here…
…in the US, here…
…and there’s even an option to use a print on demand service to order in paperback here.
The quality of the stories is excellent, the cover art is splendid and it’s a steal at the price (£2.74, $7.07 and £7.99 respectively!).
So please, buy yourself a copy, give it as a Christmas present to someone who loves the written word or just reblog the shit out of this post – it all helps to support this very worthy cause.
Thanks for your help you lovely lot 🙂
I couldn’t think of anything to write tonight. This is different from yesterday inasmuch as today is not the same day as yesterday.
And furthermore, whoop.
In an act of desperation I crossed the lego strewn rubicon separating the spare bedroom (where I write) from my bedroom (where my wife is relaxing like normal humans do on a school night at ten thirty instead of staring at a computer screen with the kind of loathing normally reserved for things of a highly loathsome nature. I bet there’s not even a modicum of self-hate or the slightest feeling of inadequacy worming its way into her psyche as we speak. She’s such a loser. Unlike me).